


O.G. Triumphant

by Gingersnap



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera (2004), Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Impliedrelationships, Love, Music, Obsession, Wittyphantom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-08-27 18:58:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8412904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gingersnap/pseuds/Gingersnap
Summary: An elaboration of scenes and "between the scenes" from the 2004 movie and refining details. *Alternate ending*Enjoy. ::team Phantom:: --comments and kudos greatly appreciated!(I do not own or take credit for any of the lines I may have used from the movie)





	1. Voice lessons

Her voice. The sound engrained itself in his soul the second he heard it.  
Timid, yet a crystal clear tone. A natural vibrato and a full range-almost completely bereft of flaw. It stopped him dead in his tracks as he was traveling through the underground passages of the Opera Populaire.  
Who was this creature who sang like an angel delivering him from his dungeon in hell?  
Leaps and bounds more talented than that squirt of a singer, Carlotta, who was apparently “well trained”. He’d been in search for some time to replace Carlotta for the lead in his operas.  
Hope began to soar as he listened to this siren through the walls.  
He sought out his only friend in the house, Madame Giry to inquire of the girl.

“Who’s is the voice in the room third down from yours?” He asked her, the voice still reverberating in his mind.

“That is Christine Daae’s room. I did not know she could sing, Monsieur. Her talents are never ending it seems. She has danced her way to the top of my classes. Even above my own daughter, I daresay.” Madame Giry answered, slightly hesitant.  
When Erik’s attention was directed at something, he couldn’t move on until he had complete control or success over that fixation.

Madame Giry explained she was an orphaned girl brought to the opera house after her father died.  
An orphan like him, he thought. Though, under different circumstances. He subconsciously grabbed his face.

“Though her father was a musician, she herself has had no proper musical lesson. She came here soon after his death and has been training and working as part of the ballet under my counsel.” She continued.

“A voice such as hers shall not be a waste in my opera.” Erik exclaimed matter of factly to Madame Giry.  
"Singing is where she truly belongs. I will have her as my muse and intend to refine her into perfection. She’s nearly there already. Incidentally, she must replace that spoiled toad, Carlotta.”

Madame Giry was skeptical to help him with this particular obsession- Christine was only 19. But she thought not to cross him, as she watched him grow into an easily vexed man.  
She was his silent helper with errands and such things he couldn’t complete in shadow. They had a long history since rescuing him. A friendship, and even at times, more. She was usually happy to do his bidding, knowing in return he would protect and financially aid her, as he was highly paid for his musical gift. He had single handedly written all of the pieces performed at the Opera Populaire.  
Not only did he write the music, lyrics and dialogue, he also constructed all of the architecture to each coinciding play. He was never seen, but his presence was well known. He was cunning and magical- hence the 'opera ghost' became an appropriate name rumored for him.  
Though, he was near impossible to please. The managers eventually gave in to his demands when he realized without the phantom’s genius, he would have little to no business. It was a small fortune to pay for the amount of revenue his craft brought in. Not only that, but people seemed to live longer if his orders were obeyed.

 

…

Erik slipped into Christine's room while she was at rehearsal to install a two way mirror he built, opening to a secret hallway from the inside. Fate would have it, the corridor led straight to her walls. Things were falling easily into place.  
He would have Madame Giry say the mirror was a gift from her for excelling in her dancing. 

Erik vowed to himself not to eye her undress, only to use the mirror to watch her during her lessons. Murderer or not, he would show courtesy for this angel. He was, however curious to see the face that belonged to the voice he instantly fell in love with.

When he first saw her face, he felt the air leave his lungs. He could not fathom the exquisite beauty his vision beheld. He knew he loved her when he first heard her sing, but her beauty reaffirmed the burning flame he felt deep in his chest. He recognized her as one of the dancers but never paid much attention to any of the young girls. He didn’t know how his gaze could have overlooked her beauty all this time.  
He decided to start with Christine immediately, waiting patiently in the corridor for her to return to her room for the night.  
He examined her through the mirror for a moment, taking in her beauty before introducing his voice.

“Christine..” The phantom breathed, slightly above a whisper.

“Who, Who’s there!” Christine gasped, startled.

“Don’t be frightened, Christine.” he replied. "I am only a friend, a phantom."

“What do you want with me?” she asked, her voice shook, betraying her.

“I have heard you sing, and am very impressed. You possess a promising talent and I wish to aide you my guidance in mastering and perfecting your skill. Let me be your teacher. The gift bestowed upon you can not go on wasted. In addition, I will watch over and protect you, always. Put your trust in me, my angel.” the Phantom purred.  
His voice was calming yet authorative.

Christine was in shock, but surprisingly not afraid. There were rumors of an opera ghost who lingered in the bones of the Opera house. Maybe this was the angel of music her father had promised her, she thought, the coincidence of someone singing out of thin air to her was too big to ignore. 

“My father once spoke of an angel of music who would come to me. I hear you, angel! Speak, I listen. Guide me, master.” she agreed.

“Yes, I am your angel of music” he lied. “Sing for me, Christine.” 

It was sheer luck that she was expecting a visit from a musical force. He wouldn’t deny her that fantasy. He didn’t view it as a lie. He allowed her to believe he was this ‘angel' after witnessing how content and peaceful she felt about it-who was he to argue. After all, he was helping her reach true potential. She blindly accepted him.

…

His obsession growing, a few times a week the phantom would return to Christine for her lesson. Something she also immensely looked forward to. The other girls in the ballet loved to stay out late to flirt and philander with the boys and sneak drink. Not Christine. She feigned exhaustion and escaped to her room each night by 8pm. She never knew what days he would be there, sometimes it was every night, some weeks it was only twice. She made sure she was back to her room each night to wait for him in hopes he would come. It excited her to spend time with this mystery and she was disappointed when he wasn’t there. She could hardly think of anything else throughout each day.

 

She was excelling too quickly. A natural. He feared their rendezvous would cease soon as there was not much more for her to learn. She was ready to perform.  
His love for her grew to be overwhelming. He often imagined his hands caressing her delicate frame, he hated that he couldn’t hold her in his arms.  
He could tell she looked forward to their lessons. She was excited, attentive and obedient. Christine would try to converse after their songs in attempt to get to know more about him.

“Master, can’t I see you? I need to link a face to the voice that has so captivated me. I dream of you.” she admitted, looking down at her hands. He remained silent, taken aback by her profession. "You are an enigma. Were you a man? Are you alive? Are you a ghost? I must know, angel!” 

“I am most definitely a man, my dear. Soon you shall see. Sleep now and dream of my face. I will return, my love.” He swore. His voice relaxed her. It was sultry and wholesome simultaneously.  
He knew it was getting a bit coquettish between the two of them, but he couldn’t resist.  
Even her eyelids obeyed his command and she quickly drifted off.

He snuck in through her mirror once he knew she was sleeping and laid a single rose with a black ribbon on her nightstand, just as he did after every lesson to show he was pleased with her.  
He could tell she enjoyed his company- the voice of him anyway. He’d hoped her feelings would continue to bloom and by the time he could show himself to her, the feelings would be too strong to be put off by his deformity. She was turning twenty soon and he felt that would be an appropriate enough age to take this woman to wife. She stole his soul with her voice. The least she could do is give and devote herself to him, he thought.


	2. Physical Meeting of the Angel of Music

The new managers arrived with the wealthy Vicomte De Chagny. They came in arrogant but the O.G. was up to the task of getting them to heed his instruction of how his theatre was to be run- predicting he would likely need to turn to cruelty to check them. 

The performance of Hannibal was approaching and he watched as the new managers were besotted with Carlotta during rehearsal. The phantom pulled some tricks to startle her, making sure the two fools witnessed Carlotta in all her obnoxious glory during one of her many temper tantrums.  
After she stormed out as she often did, he pre-advised Madame Giry to suggest Christine play Elissa, the lead in Hannibal in place of Carlotta. She of course won the part with no objections. There was no denying her beauty, talent and grace. 

...

It was about time Christine starred in the lead. Carlotta’s reign was finally over, Erik laughed to himself.   
After hearing Christine perform her first opera, Erik was more enamored than ever. He thought about waiting until she was in bed to whisper his congratulations and praise through her walls, but he noted Raoul, the Vicomte, was paying more attention to her than Erik was comfortable with. He hid in the shadows to observe. 

Raoul followed Christine to her room, helping himself to some flowers on the way that were left outside her door by somebody else. 

“What a gentleman.” Erik snickered under his breath. Raoul's lack of integrity sparked suspicion.

After listening to their conversations, Erik was disheartened to find they were childhood sweethearts, clearly enjoying their reconnection.   
Raoul was pushing for her to accompany him on an outing that evening, but there was no way the Phantom was going to allow that, and Christine knew it.   
Erik was immensely pleased when Christine did her best to turn Raoul’s offer down, admitting her teacher was very strict. She held him in high regard, and it did not go unnoticed. His heart soared. It was obvious she had developed some sort of feeling for him. He needed her to see him, and he must do it before Raoul gets his way and convinces her to leave, the fool. Erik had observed many men, and he knew a snake when he saw one. 

When Raoul stepped out to fetch his horses, the phantom took his opportunity.

"Who is this insolent boy! Basking in your glory?” he exclaimed.  
This ignorant fool! Sharing in my triumph!”

"Angel..” Christine implored. “Please! I was weak, forgive me. Stay with me, guide me."

“It is time you should know me, Christine. I’m here, in the mirror. Come.” The phantom allowed her a first glance as he sang..

“I am your angel of music... Come to me angel of music..” He recurred as Raoul returned to her locked door.

"Who’s is that voice! Who is that in there!” Raoul yelled through the door, shaking the locked knob.

The Phantom smirked behind the mirror, planning his timing well and taking pleasure in the fact that Raoul can hear her in with a man, hoping it would offend him and put Christine off his radar.

Christine placed her hand in the phantom's as he pulled her through behind the mirror, down the dark hallway.  
He continued to lure her into a trance like state, further down the secret corridors to his underground lair. 

Christine, completely beguiled by this phantom could not divert her eyes. He was wearing a white mask covering half his face with black hair and dark features. He was considerably tall in stature, wearing black formal evening attire- better dressed than most of the men in the audience that night. His vest and coat tailored tight to his well defined frame.  
Christine's insides stirred by his physique alone. Taking a closer look to what she could see of his face, she surmised that he was strangely beautiful. More striking than any man her eyes had beheld. She could not figure out why on earth he would need to cover his handsome face with that odd mask.   
His lips were full, his eyes a dark blue, occasionally flashing her a sly, charming smile. She was captivated. Though he was clearly dark, there was a gentleness to him. Each touch spreading warmth across her skin.   
When she imagined her angel of music, she wasn’t expecting an actual man in the flesh. She half assumed him to be a literal ghost. She was definitely not expecting to find him so alluring. A dark angel, obviously more dark than light. She was surprised how much it suited him. She wasn’t sure what the sensation was she was feeling but following him further into the darkness, she was ever more curious who this enchanting man was, leading her into this strange fantasy.

They entered a mystical room by boat. A cave, more than a room. Covered in fine tapestries, candles and statues. The whole area was extremely intricate and warm.   
She couldn’t stop herself, she felt her head swirling around this magical creature- drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Every reach for her was met willingly by her hand, her chest heaving with desire. Their faces inches away as he helped her out of the gondola, she could feel his cool breath on her as he sang. She had never heard him sing like this before. The lessons were focused solely on her voice with the occasional minor correction or suggestion from him.  
His voice was beautifully rugged and powerful, resonating deep inside her bosom. She was mesmerized, never wanting his aria to end.   
She hungered for his touch as he took slow steps toward and around her as he sang. She was suffocating in lust. He slowly approached behind her, seductively grabbing her waist and torso, pulling her back into an embrace against his chest. Christine savored his touch, her eyes lolling back. He pulled away as she turned into him, craving more of this sensation.

The phantom continued the tour during his melodic reverie. Beautiful mirrors, and musical instruments galore. Candelabras and intricate fabrics hanging from every rock. He took her around a corner where she saw it was clear he had set out to marry her, making it known this could all be hers. Panic struck and broke whatever daze she was in. Overwhelmed, she felt herself falling into blackness. Erik caught her right as she collapsed and his stomach sank.  
He had misread her, or maybe it was too soon.  
He carried her to his custom swan bed with ease, and left her to come to in peace. Worried how he would explain and proclaim himself to her when she awoke, he sat at the organ so he could properly think. He was so deep in thought while composing the overture for an upcoming opera that he didn’t realize or hear Christine awaken. Curiosity got the best of her as she came up behind him, removing off his mask. 

So caught off guard, he jumped up and pushed her away from him, quickly shielding his face.   
Humiliated and furious, his temper was raging. Not meaning to knock her down, he immediately grew more frustrated with self hatred. It was moments before he could reel himself back in and compose himself.   
Christine was terrified. Crouched on the floor, she handed him his mask as he quickly made to conceal his deformity. It wasn’t so bad, she thought, but now she understood why he wore the mask. He still held more beauty than repulsion. He turned his back to her to put the mask back on.

Looking away from him, she realized she was scantily dressed and felt a sudden rush of embarrassment. What possessed her to follow him down here? She had no idea how to get back and wasn’t sure he would even let her leave, especially now that she’s seen his shrine of her. The obsession made her uncomfortable. She was overwhelmed and frightened..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...building..building...


	3. The Real Raoul

Sensing her discomfort, regret washed over Erik. He wasn't used to having to control his temper.  
He decided it was time to return her before she began to lose all trust in him. He feared his tantrum would cause resentment and further trepidation if he didn’t show mercy now. 

He composed himself and offered Christine his hand to help her up. 

“Come, those two fools who run my theatre will be missing you. I’ll see you to your room.” He said as he pulled a blindfold from the drawer.

“What’s that for?” Christine asked, concerned. “Is that really necessary?"

“Don’t fear, my angel. Trust me. I will guide you back, safely.” he said, running the back of his hand softly down her cheek. 

Christine had no idea how he calmed her so easily, even after just losing his temper. But she did in fact, trust him. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. His hand on her back burned through her corset straight to her skin. How could she still have these lustful feelings after witnessing the dark passenger that resides in him.  
One hand holding her arm, the other pressed firmly on her lower back, the Phantom was back to his gentle demeanor.

 

Approaching her bedroom, he kissed her forehead before removing her blindfold.

“Our lessons will resume tomorrow.” He tenderly advised, letting his hands gently rest on her shoulders, running them down her arms. The heat spreading in his palms even through his gloves. He imagined his hands all over her. So did Christine, though she was ashamed at the thought.

“Ok, tomorrow.” She replied hesitantly with her eyes down, mindlessly fiddling with a loose string on the hem of her chemise.

Erik gently moved his hands down her arms to clasp her fidgeting hands in his. She softly closed her eyes as he brought them up to kiss her knuckles.

“Forgive my incivility earlier, I sincerely apologize” He assured. "There is nothing I care for more than you. I would never hurt you. Do you understand? I pray my face does not plague you with nightmares..” 

She finally brought her eyes up to meet his remorseful gaze, peering deep inside.  
Her heart fluttered at his apology and his touch. She had so many emotions. She felt pity for him and was truly torn between fear and fondness.  
His insecurity behind the mask broke her heart. She wanted him to know, it didn’t cause repulsion like he assumed. It was his reaction. Quick to anger.  
She smiled and cupped the unmasked side of his face and leaned up to tenderly kiss his cheek, slightly brushing the corner of his mouth.  
The phantom, stunned by the endearment, stood still. He closed his gaping mouth, trying not to let the extreme joy he felt show on his face. He pulled away, taking her hand in his and lightly kissed it once more.  
Not wanting to get carried away, he released her and exited silently back through the corridor behind the mirror.  
She was good as his, he thought, convincing himself. She loved him, even if she didn’t know it yet. She would.

 

…

The next morning, she found Raoul waiting outside her door asleep in a sitting position. She crouched down to wake him. As soon as he realized it was her, he jumped up and spun her around, checking for injury. 

“Where have you been! I heard a man’s voice and have been waiting for you all night!” He snapped, sounding more angry than concerned. 

She was taken aback by his anger, not seeing this side of Raoul before. She didn’t want him to be upset with her, and quite frankly didn’t understand why he was. They had only just met again last night. It had been years since they were sweethearts. She wasn’t under his responsibility. 

“I..I was with my angel of music, Raoul, my teacher. Just like my father promised me would come. I tried telling you last night, he’s very strict and we had a lesson” she twisted the truth just a bit, not sure why she was protecting the phantom.  
After seeing Raoul also had a temper, she wasn’t so upset with her angel for losing his after she unmasked him. Of course he was embarrassed.

Christine and Raoul spent the day together, and his mood shifted as the topic of the phantom had changed to other things. Catching up on their lives after they were separated as kids. They quickly fell back into a mutual infatuation. The nostalgic romance hooked her, fast. Raoul of course had experienced many women, but led Christine to believe he was saving himself for her all this time, that she was the only girl he ever truly thought about. She ate up every word. He treated her as though a gentleman would and doted on her with his rehearsed lines and lavish gifts. 

The phantom lurked around in the passageways, watching this love affair develop before his eyes. He was no match for Raoul if that’s the type of life she dreamt of. Stronger, more passionate Erik was, yes. But he wasn’t sure that’s what Christine knew she wanted yet. Raoul had the upper hand in society. He could give her a secure life in daylight, where Erik only could in darkness. Raoul was handsome, no doubt. But he was a spoiled pretty boy who inherited everything he was.

"I have built myself up from nothing," Erik reassured himself. Surely, Christine would soon see through this boring shell of a man who is out only to please himself. She will come to see, and if she doesn’t soon, Erik would be sure to expose Raoul. Or kill him. Whichever came first. He decided not to visit Christine in her chambers again for a while. Hoping fondness would grow with distance. Yes, he would let this little flirtation run it’s course for a small period, so that when he does come back to her, she will have gained perspective on what she truly desires. She will get bored of the boy, he thought.

That night, Christine made sure she was back to her room at a reasonable hour to await her nightly visit from the phantom.  
She paced her room, anxious and nervous to see her teacher.  
He was there, of course. Watching from behind the mirror, silent.

“Angel?” Christine whispered. “Are you here?”

Erik wanted to let himself in and pull her into his embrace, but he decided to follow through with his plans to let her submit to him on her own.  
With no response, Christine began her practices, remembering what she had learned with him before. His heart burst with pride. She was self motivated and obedient to him even when she knew he wasn’t there. He was sure her feelings for him would exceed those of Raoul. He watched her for a few moments, before the temptation to speak to her became too hard to fight, he turned on his heel to find what Raoul was up to.

Erik was fortunate with luck, as he caught Raoul just as he was leaving the opera house. He was able to follow him on his own horse that Madame Giry kept prepared for him.  
To his surprise, Raoul went straight home. Erik was just about to sneak in after him when he saw through the window he was only grabbing more francs and rushing back out. Erik ran back to his horse and followed him out of town to a brothel.  
He didn’t need to follow Raoul inside to know what he was up to in there.

“Of course! Ha! The swine I knew he was.” The opera ghost laughed to himself. His suspicions of Raoul being a self serving imbecile were dead on. He contemplated killing him there on the spot but thought he should let the game with Christine continue, eventually exposing himself for the player and fool that he is, shooting himself in the foot. He could only hope. He didn’t want to have to be the one to break Christine’s heart. He wanted to be there to pick it up. 

He returned to the opera house, straight to Christine’s room while she slept. He left the rose with black ribbon on her nightstand, as he always did. It would be the last for a while. It was too hard to bear, not being able to converse with her, touch her. He would keep away while her fling with the Vicomte fizzled out. He would focus and prepare the details and construction for ‘Il Muto’.  
Erik delivered notes to his managers, Raoul and Carlotta, giving commands to what he expects from this next opera, along with warnings if they did not comply.  
In a perfect world, Christine would be the star in every show, the new managers would do as they’re told for once, and Raoul would cease to exist. But Erik was a smart man, he knew they would not take this last chance and heed warning. He had already planned accordingly.

 

...

Il Muto went disastrously, as expected. He had no choice, someone would need to be sacrificed. He would not be made out to look the fool who didn’t hold true to his word.  
“My requests were simple. Everything was mapped out. Miss Daae to play the role of countess and box five be open for my use. They will pay.”  
Choosing the least moral of men that resided in the opera house, he sacrificed Joseph Buquet. Noone would miss him and his role in the phantom's opera house was insignificant. He let him hang until dead in front of the whole theatre.  
His only concern was Christine. He knew this would further her brooding disdain for him, but thought he’d be able to reconcile that later when Raoul exposed himself.

He wasn’t prepared however, for the incident to turn into such intense fear.  
Christine turned to Raoul for comfort, and in doing so, he proposed. Promising to “protect her”. Erik scoffed.  
Not expecting the relationship to escalate so quickly, he formulated a new plan. He would have to capture Christine. "Fear can turn to love," he thought. That’s how it would have to be. But the romantic inside of him didn’t want to just kidnap her from her chambers, he still wanted her to choose him. She would choose him eventually, if she knew about Raoul. All in good time, he thought.

His investigation of Raoul came to prove him the better man over and over. When he was out of Christine’s presence, he was no gentleman at all. Erik followed him to brothels and taverns almost every time he left Christine. Even after the night of their alleged engagement. He couldn’t bear to watch her be a victim to his double life. Not only did Raoul spend an immense amount of money on liquor and whores, he also beat many of them if they did not please him just so.  
No, he would go to war with Raoul before ever letting Christine fall into the trap of a narcissistic cheat. She will not marry him, he vowed.


	4. The Point of No Return

Erik’s plan involved a new opera with an attached agenda for the performance.  
Don Juan Triumphant, inspired by the passion play between he and Christine.  
He would lead everyone to believe Piangi would play Don, when he himself planned to take over the part during the final piece. He had ulterior motives to seduce Christine with the song he had written for her, luring out her desires for him, essentially using this duet to coerce her to confess her unspoken feelings through music.  
He wasn’t just romanticizing things. He knew Christine had feelings for him. It was obvious by the way she looked at him, her breathing became rapid in his presence. Even Madame Giry noticed, validating his assumptions.

A finished score, he would present it in person to everyone at the gala. A masquerade ball, fate would have it.  
He constructed a new, fearsome mask- he was the opera ghost after all, and prepared for the encounter. 

Upon arrival, he caught glance of Christine and Raoul dancing, jealousy washing over him. This was as good a time as any to interrupt the party.  
He payed(and threatened) the orchestra to change keys to his signature minor tune as he entered the room to add drama and terror to his theatrics. Immediately turning heads, he began down the stairs.

“Why so silent, good monsieurs? Oh, you didn’t think I’ve left for good, have you?” Seeing the shock in everyone’s faces, he smirked and continued.  
"Have I been missed?” The phantom goaded. "No? Well, I have written you an opera!”  
"Don Juan Triumphant!” He exclaimed, proudly. He was rather impressed with himself for this particular score. It held more meaning, as it was centered around Christine.

The room was still, nobody dare speak.

“Come come, fondest greetings to you all..I do however have a few instructions. I expect you will comply as you would not want a repeat of the last fiasco, do you agree?”

He made his way down the staircase, giving detailed commands around the room, sword in hand. He noted Raoul snuck out- the coward, he thought.  
Christine didn’t notice though, as she could not peel her eyes away from the phantom- along with the rest of the party, but for different reasons. He was so alluring and mysterious. His ensemble was striking. In a red suit, of course handsomely fitted, and a white mask covering his nose and eyes that slightly resembled a skeleton. His mouth enticed her with every word. She feared the room would notice the fervor radiating off of her.

At last, his steps had led him to Christine, wherein he assigned her the lead role meant for her.  
His demeanor changed from demanding to considerate when he approached her. Both breathing heavily, caught in each other’s gaze, Christine moved to close the gap, needing to be closer to him. The phantom was caught off guard by the glint in her necklace. Realizing it was her engagement ring, his temper quickly rose.

“Your chains are still mine! You belong to me!” he spat, feeling betrayed, he ripped the necklace from her collar and retreated back through a secret trap door.  
Raoul the fool came charging after him. He chuckled to himself as he easily maneuvered through the traps, tormenting his follower. Lucky for Raoul, Madame Giry came in after him. 

 

…

Christine was preparing herself for the debut of “Don Juan Triumphant”, a mix of feelings swirling in her mind.  
Raoul had suggested to use Christine as bait for the Phantom, much to her dismay. She strongly protested against it, terrified of what could come.  
She was not thrilled that Raoul would put her in possible harm’s way. She began to feel like a game piece to Raoul. Who would win? She just wanted to feel safe. She didn’t want more people to die.  
She had seen a side to the phantom that she grew to think of. The angel. But there was that dark side, mysterious and frightening but still a side she thought about often. She would not admit aloud, it was arousing. She hated him for the terrible things he had done in his quests to obtain her. But it was flattering somebody could care for her this much. She began to silently doubt Raoul’s intentions. He never actually consoled her, at times even deflected her fears and told her she had been dreaming, or her worries were silly and exaggerated. It frustrated her. How could he not believe her? He seemed driven by his need to stake claim. So was the phantom, she supposed, but something was different when she was in his presence. Like their bodies couldn’t not be near. It was magnetic. She could feel how strong the feelings ran for him. It radiated off of him. She didn’t doubt Raoul had feelings for her, but it was different. He was rushing marriage and she wasn’t sure why, or how she felt about it. It definitely excited her, being the wife of a Vicomte, but she wondered why the phantom showed more ardent in his feeling than Raoul.  
She just wished the phantom’s passion wasn’t mixed with madness. The madness that was sure to follow her so long as she lives, she feared. What would tonight bring, she thought.

 

As the plot of Don Juan approached, Erik prepared himself to rid of Piangi and take his place on stage.  
Being rather fond of Piangi, his intention was to only render him unconscious, not kill him. He strangled him for a brief moment to get him to pass out, but his heart gave out and failed during the panic of the attack. He had previously advised Piangi to lose weight before this opera. He did not heed warning and he payed the price. Taking a brief moment of guilt for the death of a man he didn’t despise, he moved on to make his way to the stage.

As soon as he began his part, Christine knew without a glance. His voice, the authority of it called to her. She didn’t expect him to actually show himself on stage, but the role was masked and cloaked, it made sense now. The difference would be obvious to everyone and confuse the audience. His physique was statuesque and attractive, as Piangi’s was plump and sloppy.  
Erik knew the guards would take note of him being on stage, but not risk the lives of the other stars and he would be able to make off with Christine without harm. 

At first, Christine was panicked. But listening to him sing quickly melted her fears and she fell into his lustful game.  
During his verse, the phantom stalked toward her, not taking his eyes off of her. Not even for a second. His gaze was provocative and direct. He moved fluidly along the stage, her as his only focus. She felt her heart begin to race with desire. His suit was black on black, with a black mask. The only contrast was the white chemise, which was open at his well sculpted chest. Everything about his appearance drew her in.  
She felt as though she could faint, desire swirling inside of her head and body as he sang to her and only her, approaching closer. It was obvious his plan was working, sensing she was aware of what he was up to, he gave a wolfish smirk while seductively singing the words, “past the point of no return." Everything was falling perfectly into place. 

Her body was still as he came up behind her, caressing her neck and running his hands down the side of her breasts to her ribcage. Every word was a testament to how he felt, to how wonderful this passion could play out if she would succumb to her feelings.

“What sweet seduction lies before us..” she quivered as he sang straight to her soul, his hands trailing heat and goosebumps down her flesh, her mouth slightly gaping open in obvious intoxication. 

She snapped briefly out of it when she realized it was her turn to sing.  
It was like he wrote the words knowing exactly how she would feel in this exact moment. How could he have known? Was she that predictable? She didn’t even know she would feel and want these things. The passion was undeniable. She now understood the reason for this song. His motive. She not only sang the words as she had rehearsed, she felt them. They proclaimed themselves out of her lungs involuntarily. She had no control over the desire that was ignited during this duet. She sang with more fervor than she even knew possible. The hunger for him was overwhelming and excitement coursed through his veins as he realized, she was not acting. 

Raoul watched from above. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There was no way she had feelings for this monster. No way- and yet, it was clear that she did.  
He felt a sudden pang of anger toward them both. He would not lose to this malformed opera ghost. How could he?

As the song came to an end, Erik so overcome with love for Christine declared himself to her once more. The spell of lust was briefly broken and Christine was torn as to what to do. They had gotten off track from the play and she panicked. Suddenly remembering what he was capable of, Christine ripped off his mask to expose him, unaware of the consequences.  
She expected him to be angry- to lash out at her then. But he was still too distracted with desire. However, hurt by her deceit, he harbored no ill feelings toward her. He was sure her feelings during their duet were genuine. Maybe they still were, he thought. 

As the whole audience gasped in shock, the room became a frenzy as the guards made their way down to collect him. Of course the phantom had a plan and escaped with Christine in his grasp down a trap in the center of the fake flames, closing and locking it behind them.  
Let them try make their way down my labyrinth unscathed, he thought. The only one who knew how to get safely down was Madame Giry. He had advised her of his plan and told her if things went wrong, to lead Raoul down. She was hesitant but as always, did as she was asked.


	5. Dungeon in Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate ending

Erik dragged Christine down the corridors he once had before.  
Terror washed over her as she tried to fight free of his grasp, which only made him grip tighter. Her first visit was so gentle, so inviting. This time, it was terrifying. None of the candles were lit in the hallways, and it was as dark and dreary as she felt in her soul being in the phantom’s presence.

He finally let go of her when they reached his living quarters, trying to tame his temper.  
He knew he was scaring her and that she was in shock but he didn’t know how to console her, how to back pedal from the outburst of anger she witnessed once again.

He began to share his disdain for the world with Christine and why he was so harsh in hopes she would understand and accept him. She looked at him with sadness in her eyes, when he heard Raoul approaching the gate.

“Wait! I think, my dear we have a guest!” Erik said to her, draping his arm around her shoulder as a husband might. She wriggled away from his grasp and he began towards Raoul. 

Raoul gave some protests for the phantom to free Christine. Useless, Erik thought. She was his.

“Why so worried, Vicomte? Did you think that I would harm her?”

Getting a noose around Raoul’s neck was easier than he imagined. Erik quickly tied him to the gate and threatened his ultimatums at Christine.

“Choose me, and he lives. If you do not, you send him to his grave.” Erik spat.

“I have shed tears of pity on your behalf, but those tears have now turned to hate!”  
Christine cried out.

“Even still. Make your choice!” He said grimly while Raoul choked against the rope. 

Christine was torn. She knew her feelings for Raoul would eventually fade, they had already a bit since getting engaged. But more than anything, she didn’t want Raoul to die. She could surely sacrifice herself for any life that was threatened on her behalf. Could she learn to love the phantom? She didn’t know anymore. But, if it came down to saving a life, the choice was easy.

“Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known?” She began walking toward her angel of music..  
“God give me courage to show you, you are not alone..” she sang as she pressed her lips to his in a glorious answer.

Not expecting her to show her selection by kissing him right then in front of Raoul, he was filled with exuberance. Caught off guard and weak in the knees, he didn’t realize he’d dropped the rope, and Raoul came untied. If it weren’t for Christine gasping, Erik would have been decapitated right then. He turned and Raoul got his arm instead. The phantom groaned in pain as he reached back down into the water for his noose. Raoul was sloppy in his anger and was a poor swordsman. It wasn’t long before Erik had him roped again and began to strangle him under water.

“No! You promised! Don’t kill him angel, please! I choose you!” Christine begged.

Erik payed no attention to her as he continued strangling him. He took Raoul’s sword and stabbed it into his chest to sooner put an end to his suffering, more to put Christine out of her wailing misery. He didn’t personally care if Raoul suffered, in fact he preferred it.

“No! NO!! Not again. Not Raoul!” Christine screamed, running to kneel beside Raoul.  
"How could you, you monster! I could never love you! It’s not your face that holds the horror, it’s your soul!” Christine lost control of her mind and began sobbing over Raoul’s lifeless body.

Erik wasn’t wounded by her words. He knew that her devastation would be temporary. He wished, though, he would have made Raoul admit his sins to her before he killed him, but he posed a threat and had to die. Raoul wouldn’t have retreated without Christine. 

“Why did you have to kill him! How could you. How could you do this to me.” She quietly sobbed, her face buried in her hands.

“It was self defense, you saw he charged and attacked me. I have the wound to prove it," he chuckled as he tightened a tourniquet around his arm to stop the bleeding.

She just glared at him and shook her head in disapproval.

"Oh Christine, you being mad love, wouldn’t have stopped me. He would forever be in the way in our lives, we would never have been able to build. However, I am sorry you feel a loss. I will grant you this truth, though. Raoul wasn’t the man you thought he was. Not even close. He didn’t deserve you Christine. When you’re ready to know what I know, you may ask and I will tell you. But now there is no point in wallowing. Come, I will rid of the body and you can rest.” 

Struck with such grief and anger, Christine found that she was exhausted beyond measure. She felt numb and didn’t even know how to come to terms with her new situation. Was she really to stay underground forever? Surely he didn’t expect her to? Would she become a slave to his body? The thought that used to excite her now held more dread than she ever thought possible.  
She felt terrible for Raoul. Almost responsible. Had she led the phantom on? She did have feelings for him and when he touched her, she lost all coherency. Maybe she helped his fantasies along?  
She could have lived with the thought of life without marrying Raoul. She didn’t hold a great deal of passion for him, but the fact that he is now dead to the hands of her admirer, she couldn’t help but feel responsible. She feared she would never have closure.

At some point during her worry, she did fall to sleep curled up in the corner of the room. Erik bundled her up in his arms and gingerly placed her on the swan bed he intended to one day share with her.  
He would gift her a short period of bereavement before expecting her to move on in acceptance of her new life with him. He had little patience for anyone but for Christine, he did want her to be happy.  
He left her to sleep in peace and slept on the chaise lounge in his study.

 

...

Christine had been sleeping for over 13 hours. Erik was getting restless. He watched her as she slept, the shape of her bosom rising and falling. He wondered how to get her back to where she was, when she wanted him. He knew he could. It was there once, the feelings could again return, he thought. It took everything in his power not to take her right then. He wouldn’t rape her, though. She may be his prisoner now but this, she would consent, sooner or later. He believed he could get her body to succumb and soon enough the mind would follow.  
Not wanting to be caught ogling her while she slept, he left the room as she began to stir, finding useful employment at his organ.


	6. Hostage Situation

Erik was writing a new score. A chilling, sullen piece. His music often reflecting his mood.  
He heard Christine approaching from behind, but didn’t stop playing.

“How long am I to be a prisoner here?” Christine quietly demanded from behind the phantom. Obviously still upset with him for killing her beau.

“Good morning, my dear. Or should I say good afternoon, it’s after 1pm. I didn’t have the heart to wake you. I’m sure you’re very hungry. There is a small kitchen around the corner there.” He played through his reply, dismissively pointing a finger to direct her. 

“How can I eat? How can I feel anything but rage and sorrow! How long am I to be your prisoner, I demand to know!”  
She repeated, with more volume.

Erik did not take well to being spoken to in such a manner, especially coming from Christine, a lady. It was very unbecoming and he would not stand for it much longer.  
Not wanting to scare her and make matters worse, he decided to practice managing his temper. His motive was to win her over, after all.

“A prisoner with demands? Looks like I’ve captured quite the little madame..” he teased as he stood up from the bench, turning to face her.

“Things have clearly escalated and I couldn’t possibly let you go now, even if I wanted to.” He took a step toward her, and she took a step back.

"I do love you, Christine, but trust you yet, I do not. Fear can turn to love, and when it does, you will no longer be my prisoner. I am truly sorry it has to be this way but we have indeed, passed the point of no return, just as you so passionately sang to me last night. Which I have been meaning to applaud you, for your performance by far exceeded my expectations."

“I was acting! You wrote the words right into my mouth, deceitful savage!” She cried through gritted teeth.

The phantom clicked his tongue in disapproval, smirking as he slowly stalked closer to her,  
“Tsk tsk, Christine. I pardoned your insults last night because of the grief you bore, but you will show respect in my presence from now on. I must also say, lying is very unbecoming of you, my beautiful angel. I know you weren’t just acting. I didn’t write your emotion and fervor. I left interpretation up to you, and did you ever deliver!” Approaching behind her now, he continued. 

"You felt every word,” moving her hair to the side to speak soft and low in her ear, "relished in every touch..” he whispered as he trailed a finger down her neck to her collar bone, his free hand taking hold around her waist.

“Even now,” his lips brushed the skin under her earlobe as he spoke, Christine involuntarily tilting her head to allow him more access, "your breathing is ragged and your body gives me signs your mind does not want me to notice. Oh but I do, Christine.” he said grimly as he let his lips press against her neck.

Christine blinked away, tears in her eyes. She didn’t want him to see her cry. She was embarrassed and frustrated. She pushed away from his embrace before he could go any further and stormed off into the direction of the kitchen area. She hoped he wouldn’t follow her. She just needed to get away from him. She couldn’t eat. She had no appetite at all.

 

She had her head bowed in her arms on the table for who knows how long before she heard the phantom enter behind her. She didn’t even bother to sit up.

“Christine..” he murmured gently.

She still didn’t respond or move. 

“I have errands to attend to above ground. I shouldn’t be more than an hour or so. I wish I could trust you not to escape, but as I can’t yet I wanted to forewarn you of what will happen if you do..”

She sat up then, glancing behind and willing him to continue.  
His heart wrenched at her tearstained cheeks..

“Did you ever wonder how I have lived down here all this time, not bothered or found? I have many traps Christine, most involving death by water. If however, you happened to miss the traps, you wouldn’t be able to find your way back through my maze for days, and likely die from starvation.”

He softened his voice and took a few steps to her to wipe a falling tear from her cheek.  
“It’s not my intention to be cruel, Christine. These traps have been set in place for years and I fear your death more than my own. I do not wish to have to bind your arms to a post. Do you agree?”

She turned her head and nodded silently. He felt a pang of remorse for the way she felt right now but knew it would soon pass.

“Good girl. I will return shortly.”

 

…

Erik collected the rest of Christine’s clothes and belongings, food and women’s supplies he thought she might need for the next while. He was not surprised to find the opera house was desolate. The fire had burnt itself out before destroying the upper levels but the walls were deeply charred.  
He left a note for Madame Giry in her quarters, with nowhere else to go, she would eventually return. 

Mme Giry,

The girl is safe. The boy is dead.  
Please do not attempt to reach me. If I need further  
assistance, I will come.  
Best wishes, dear friend.  
Signed,  
Opera Ghost.

He left a small fortune for her troubles, and also for the repercussions of his actions which had inadvertently affected her and her daughter. 

He made sure to grab Christine’s photo of her father in the chapel room on his way back down, knowing it would bring her solace and quickly made to return back.

 

One hour turned to three and the phantom still hadn’t returned. Christine was worried something happened to him, and she’d be stuck to die in this cave alone.  
She was bored out of her mind. She had plenty of time to familiarize herself with her new surroundings. She explored everywhere in the lair where her feet did not have to touch water. She was surprised how deep the cave actually went. When she breached the edge of candlelight, she turned around and explored another passage. She was amazed at the intricate design the phantom had devoted himself to perfecting. Everything was so ornate. He was indeed an artist, a genius. It put things into perspective for Christine, just how alone he was to have spent this much time perfecting the architecture, along with all of his other accomplishments. It was awe-inspiring.  
Once she felt she had seen all she could without pushing limits, she made her way back to the familiar rooms.  
She cleaned the kitchen and organized the cupboards more appropriately and decided to retreat to the music room. She knew a bit of piano from childhood and decided to fiddle with the organ keys in her boredom.

 

…

Erik returned shortly after his errands were complete, but lurked in the shadows to observe Christine while in his absence. He was pleased to find she hadn’t tried to escape, but instead explored the rooms in the allotted space. He watched her mosey and rearrange the kitchen, encouraging thoughts of normalcy.  
While she thumbed through the pages of his music book, he made his presence known by clearing his throat as to not startle her. It didn’t work-she gasped.

"I apologize. That took longer than expected... I see you left the kitchen..” He jested as he walked past her to begin unpacking the things he collected.  
She remained silent in the other room as he unpacked her belongings in the bedroom. 

When he came back out, Christine was huddled on the floor with her arms around her knees, looking down.

"Christine..” he began.

“Please,” she interrupted “Angel, please.. how long must I live down here.” She begged, her tone much softer than before.

“As you can see, I'm no angel. You may call me Erik from now on. And I don’t have that answer for you.” He replied as he introduced his name to her.

 

He crouched down and took her hands in his.  
“Don’t be frightened, Christine. Come, I brought your clothes. You can wash up in there.” He pointed and moved to help her up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> getting there..


	7. The Flames At Last Consume Us

Christine cleaned herself up and dug through the armoire for a dress to wear. She realized she would need his help dressing the back up. She decided to stall for a bit and look around the room at all the things he collected for her. He brought her brushes and mirror, all of her clothing, books and paints. She walked on and saw her father’s picture on the nightstand with a single rose next to it. She was flooded with relief. Just seeing the photo of her father brought peace to this terrible situation.  
Erik was thoughtful, she gave him that. Raoul bought her gifts upon gifts but they somehow held no meaning. It was a hollow gesture. Something she felt he did because that’s what rich men do for their wives and fiancés. The phantom knew her. Knew her deepest desires. He must have known what this photo meant to her. As much as she wanted to hate him, she still felt something for him. She could tell he truly loved her. The photo of her father alone made it evident he cared for her feelings.

She got herself decent enough to call him in for help.

“Phantom- um, I mean, Erik..I can’t do my corset without assistance. Would you mind?” She called from behind the curtain, but there was no answer. She walked out of the room holding the top of her chest to keep her dress from falling.  
She turned the corner to find him without his shirt, mining away at one of the walls.  
His shoulders were broad, his arms and back defined, his chest well sculpted. 

She didn’t realized she was staring until he interrupted her daze with a stunning smirk.

“Need something?” He panted over his shoulder, body glistening in sweat-replacing his mask before completely turning to face her.

Gathering herself, she cleared her throat and answered.  
“I..I need help lacing my corset. I usually have a maid or a friend to assist with these things..” she muttered sheepishly, eyes down.

Erik lodged his pickax into the wall, grabbing his shirt to wipe his face and hands, a smirk still playing on his lips She grabbed tighter to the top of her dress.

“No need to be shy, Christine. Soon enough I will see it all.” He said, sauntering toward her.

She swallowed.

“So that’s why I’m here then…for the satisfaction of your flesh?” She bravely replied.

“…and for yours..” he bantered and she scoffed as she blushed, looking down.

“Don’t be coy, Christine, there will come a time you will beg for my touch.” He said low and seductive in her ear before beginning to lace her corset, careful not to touch her skin. He wanted her wanting.

She remained silent, not knowing what to say. She hated him for killing Raoul, but something in her knew he was right. She already craved his touch. It was the most confusing thing. She changed the subject.

“What happened when we left? After you cut down the chandelier. Was, was anyone hurt?” 

“I don’t know if anyone was hurt, but it started a fire. The whole main level was scorched. It will take me months to renovate it and find another tenant.”

“Another tenant?”

“Yes, I own the building. Why do you think I’ve always said, 'my opera house'? Why I’m so specific on how it is to be run?”

“But how?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“When Madame Giry found me, she brought me here and introduced me to the owner at the time, who was very kind to me. He saw that I was a hard worker, and my body was conditioned to working long hours. That is when I first started learning to build and create. He payed me to design and build the sets. As he got older and wished to retire, he sold the place to me. It’s been mine since I was 18.” He explained, finishing the last tie on her dress.

“Can we go upstairs? Or must I be locked in this dungeon forever?” She asked, now that she was dressed, feeling more confident.

“We can, but you will need to be blindfolded, until I can trust you.” 

“You can trust me, angel. I’ve made my choice and I’ll stand by my word." Her voice softened as she looked at him intently.."Are you not still my master? I will obey.” She said, turning her entire body more to face the phantom. He was at a loss for words, his eyes peering deep into hers. She felt silly of a sudden “Anyway, where am I to go? Everyone I love is either gone or dead.”

He stared at her for another moment. He knew she wanted him. He could tell when he was near. Her body gave her away but her mind clearly fought him. She may not love him yet, but there was part of her that yearned for skin contact.

“Even so, my dear. Precautions will be taken until I see fit. Let me wash and I’ll take you up. We can take advantage of the empty venue and have dinner alone in the kitchen. ”

 

...

Less formal than she usually saw him, he wore a white shirt with no frills and brown pants with his black mask covering both sides of his face.  
It became him and she found him profoundly handsome. His face may have been contorted but his strong, assertive demeanor outshone any deformity. Even without the mask. She often caught herself letting her eyes linger too long on his body as he moved. Why did she feel this way, she wondered? Especially after everything he's done. She was wearing a navy blue dress, also less formal than her usual attire. Her breasts were not tightly boasted up by her corset, leaving more to the imagination. She was at least grateful for that. She knew Erik was plenty strong enough to pull it tighter but couldn't help but think he was consciencly conservative with her dressing so she felt less exposed.  
He gently blindfolded her and guided her up out of the labyrinth until they approached the main floor.  
She was shocked at the condition of the building. There was ash and soot everywhere. The pillars were charred and nearly all the windows had burst. 

“Oh my,” she quietly stated.  
He kept a hand on her back and one on her elbow to help guide her through the rubble on their way to the kitchen.

“I will hire a cleaning crew to help the renovation this week. It will be a running theatre and you as the star again in no time” He said matter of factly.

He lit some candles, cleared a table and opened a chair for Christine, just as a gentleman would on a date. She smiled, laughing to herself of the cliche romanticism.

 

“All I could find was some bread and goat cheese. Good news is, there’s an abundance of wine.”  
He said as he served her first.

“It’s no four course meal, but it will do” she jested, a light smile playing on the corner of her lips.

They fell into conversation as they picked at their food. Christine was surprised how easy it was to converse with him. She wanted to be mad forever but her wall was breaking down. He was mindful of her, and asked her more about herself than Raoul ever did. Erik was very attentive to each word. Much different than what she was used to with Raoul. Now that she thought of it, Raoul didn’t seem interested in much of what Christine said, ever. She didn’t seem to notice before, but the way Erik was with her now was very different.  
She learned more about Erik’s past and his friendship with Madame Giry. He told her the tale of how she saved him from the abusive life he led, and that the world had turned him cruel, that she was the only good thing in his life along with music.  
“Then I heard you sing, Christine. It turned my world on it’s axis. My whole reason for living shifted. It drove me mad at times and I can’t take back the things that I’ve done. I wish you would have come to me of your own accord but how could I have competed with the Vicomte?”  
The conversation had taken a serious spin. She was feeling dizzy from the wine and his confessed adoration. She wanted to tell him that she did have feelings for him, but also realized he was right. She would have married Raoul. 

“What did you mean when you said he wasn’t the man I thought he was?” She asked, not sure if she wanted the answer. 

“Do you really want to know?” He asked.

She wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear negative things about the man she was still mourning. She sat quietly, eyes down while picking at her bread.

“Not yet, I don’t think.” He answered for her, a softness to his voice. He was being gentle with her and she appreciated it.

“Thank you for bringing my father’s portrait. It..it means everything.” She said, changing the subject while pouring herself another glass of wine.

“I watched you light a candle for your father each night. Just because you’re with me now, doesn’t mean I expect you to give up on your life, Christine. I only wish you to live it with me by your side. I know it will take getting used to down beneath the opera house, but try to do things as you normally would. Make yourself at home, fall into routine. You can even help me with the renovations. I will need a woman’s touch.” He winked, and she smiled.  
She wasn’t sure how to fully accept all of this at once. He was right. She would have to get used to many changes. 

“I’m quite drunk, I think. You probably don’t need the blindfold to bring me back down. I’m likely not to remember a thing.” She laughed. She wasn’t used to drinking like some of the girls. She had only a few sips of wine before and tonight she had two full glasses. 

Helping her up, she immediately fainted in his arms upon standing.  
A light weight, he laughed to himself.  
He carried her back down to his fortress and laid her into the swan bed. He undressed her down to her under garments while she slept, trying not to ogle what he could see through the thin fabric.  
He quickly covered her up and decided to lay down on top of the covers next to her. He removed his shoes but kept on his clothing as to not shock her if she woke with a man half naked next to her. He hoped she would succumb to her feelings soon. He was growing impatient, especially sleeping next to her nearly naked body.  
He knew he could woo her. His face may have been contorted but the mask gave him an edge. All the years of being alone gave him much time to perfect his body, making up for the insecurity of his face- and he could tell it had it’s already had effects on Christine. He also knew he was well endowed. He had watched some of the men fucking the ballet girls in the dark corners of the opera house and exceeded most all of their sizes greatly. He observed and learned how to seduce. He had Madame Giry to help him learn in his younger years. She had developed slight feelings for him but he never returned them and she knew. She didn’t dare push him.  
She cared for him in a way she would forever protect him but soon after their romances got old, she got over the idea of him being hers and moved on. She knew her role in his life would be to protect and help him with whatever dark secrets he had planned. She also came to hate most men, being left to fend for herself by her daughter’s father. He promised to marry her and never did. Never sent her money for their daughter. She assumed most men were vile and only trusted the phantom, as twisted as he was. He never hid the sins he had committed against men and Madame giry felt he was justified in his wrong doings after what she had witnessed of his upbringing when she rescued him. 

Erik knew he could take Christine to bed, and she would comply eventually but he wanted her to want him. He knew she would soon break.  
...

The next morning, he woke early to fix them something to eat for breakfast. He sought out for some water, as he imagined Christine not being used to holding her alcohol, would be hungover.  
When he returned to the room, she was sitting up, covers to her chest, arms folded. 

“Did you undress me?” She asked, obviously waking off the liquor angrily.

“I didn’t have much choice, you would have suffocated if I let you sleep in your corset all night.” He said sardonically.

She continued to scowl at him. This hot and cold game was trying and he was beginning to lose patience with her. 

“You may have chosen me against your will, but you did choose and I will have you sooner or later, so there is no need to be modest, Christine. I will see it eventually.” He snapped.

Truth is, when he spoke like that to her, it did make her insides quiver. As much as her body responded to his demands, her mind was stubborn. She stood then, tears in her eyes, she marched over and clumsily brought her hand up to slap him. He caught her wrist before she could make contact with his face and he jerked her around so her back was to his front. He held her arms to her chest and spoke roughly in her ear.

“Now now, Christine. Is that any way to treat your lover?”

“You are NOT my lover” she exclaimed as she tried to free herself from his grasp, but he was much too strong and it just made him laugh.

“I will be, and soon Christine. Tell me..” he asked, moving one hand down her side as the other one held tight to her fighting hands.. he felt her begin to relax against him as his free hand trailed seductively down her torso. “Did you crave Raoul’s touch as you crave mine?” he said before he kissed her neck, suddenly unable to stop himself.  
She half tried to fidget away from him but something in her held her still.

“Raoul was a gentleman.” She stated obstinately.

A rage flared and he couldn’t stop the admittance that came next as he twirled her to face him and pressed her against the wall.

“Let me be clear. Raoul, was a liar and a cheat and had no respect for women. Just ask the whores he beat. You were nothing to him but a pretty girl he could flaunt on his arm while he did whatever he wanted when your head was turned.” 

Christine glowered her eyes at him.  
“You’re lying..” she whispered. 

“I’ve killed many men, Christine, I’ve stolen, cheated, and hurt people to get what I need. I’ve never hidden the things I’ve done. What reason have I to lie? I followed him almost every night to brothels and pubs. Even the flowers he brought you on the first night you met again were left to you by someone else. He was not a good man. I may not deserve you, my angel, but neither did he.”He confessed as she stood there, staring at the floor with tears in her eyes.

“I watched you with him, Christine. You were bored. I know you felt secure, but you were bored. He would never have fulfilled you..” he continued as he brought his hand up to move a stray curl that had fallen, brushing her collarbone with his fingers, and her eyelids fluttered.

“He’s gone, Christine. It’s time to forget..” and she wanted to. She secretly didn’t doubt his words. 

He brought his hand up to caress her cheek.  
She wanted to flinch away but instead her body did as usual when he touched her, and began to melt into him. She involuntarily closed her eyes as he brought his other hand up to hold her waist. Slowly, he closed the small gap between them, pressing her back against the wall, their bodies flush as he finally met his lips with hers.  
She wanted to fight him off but part of her wanted this. Wanted to see how deep this passion would play. Her mind and body pulling against each other.  
She gasped for air as he moved his lips down her throat, trailing kisses down her neck, his free hand making it’s way up her night gown, fingertips brushing up her thighs..

“Phantom..please.” she objected weakly.

He smiled against her neck as he reached her most sacred area to find her wet with need.  
"Your body does not want me to stop, Christine.”

He put more pressure into his motion as he slowly caressed her entrance, her body betraying her mind. She tried again to object but it just came out as a moan in pleasure.  
He continued to deftly stroke her and she began moving against him rigidly, no longer having control of her body. She couldn’t remember anything else, only this feeling of exploding heat. She wrapped her arms around his neck and crushed her lips to his in sweet surrender. He lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and carried her the few steps back onto the bed and roughly ripped her gown off, taking in all her glory. She was magnificent. He lowered himself onto her, grinding his arousal between her legs as he made his way down across her skin with his lips.  
When he reached her breast, he brushed her raised nipple with his tongue and she arched further into his mouth while tangling her fingers in his hair. He could no longer wait to be inside her, she helped him tear his clothes off enough for him to settle himself between her legs. She gasped in pain and he remembered she was a virgin and he was quite large. He waited in place while kissing her neck to exchange her pain for pleasure , fondling her bud with his fingertips as she began to circle her hips around him. Her head lolled and she arched her back, pressing her breasts harder into his chest as he continued his sweet torture against her nerve endings. He began to move with her, penetrating deeper, never taking his gaze off of her. He finally had her. She was close to the edge. She moaned and her body moved with his of it's own accord, 

“Erik! Please!” she panted, circling harder against him, not sure what she was begging for..

“What do you want, Christine?” He asked between thrusts.

“You, I want you. Please..”

“First your voice, now your body. You are mine. Come for me, Christine.” he rasped and she exploded around him in obedience, his pleasure immediately following.


	8. Let Your Soul Take You Where You Long to Be

He kissed her softly once more as he pulled slowly out of her.  
He stood and turned his naked back to her, picking his clothes up from the floor. She sat up and stared at him, marveling at his body. She wanted to feel shame for what she’d just done- they weren’t married. But she didn’t. She felt whole.  
He threw his pants on and turned to see her ogling him again, looking disheveled.

He walked back over to her and planted a kiss on her bare shoulder,

“See how great we can be together, Christine?” He said confidently, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb before retreating out of the room, leaving her to her thoughts.

He returned to the kitchen to cook breakfast. He was not expecting to take her first thing this morning, but he couldn’t stop smiling to himself about it. When he finished cooking their eggs, he found Christine dressed in a robe, waiting at the table.

“What’s for breakfast?” She asked, mood obviously shifted.

He looked up at her, not able to hide the grin on his face at the sudden turn of events. She almost seemed happy to be there.

“Eggs, my sweet.” he said as he kissed the top of her head, placing the plate in front of her.

“Thank you, Erik.” she replied, casually using his name

They sat together in silence while devouring their food, both famished. Occasionally one glancing up at the other in adoration.

Christine was surprised at herself at how quickly she had a change of heart. She saw him differently now. He was gentle with her, yet strong. He was skilled and attentive in everything he did, this of course being no different. His murders were unforgivable but she hoped she could move past the constant dwelling of what happened with Raoul. It certainly helped hearing about his true colors. She just wished she didn’t have blood on her hands. Several people had died at the hands of this man in his attempt to obtain her. It still sat wrong with her.

They finished their breakfast and he stood to help Christine up, kissing her knuckles as she placed her hand in his.  
Desire again flooded her at even the slightest bit of skin contact. She felt as though she was in a trance every time he was near, her judgement being clouded by lust.

“Why do I feel this way around you, even still after everything you’ve done? You completely disarm and beguile me. Even when I should be cross with you..” she said, sweeping her hands up his chest.

He smiled victoriously at her, more flattered by her omission than offended by the insult of his sins..

“Because you are mine. You were mine the moment you freed your voice in my house. Your soul knew, but your mind needs to catch up. It fights me, still.” He held her face in his hands. "I have done many bad things, Christine, and for you I wish I could be a better man. I know I don’t fully deserve your beauty and grace but I will endeavor to.” He said before he planted a lingering kiss on her lips. “Christine, I love you.”

Tears filled her eyes. She wanted to say it back but wasn’t sure if she loved him completely yet, or if she was simply addicted to the drug of passion. Was there a difference? Would this passion sustain forever? She appreciated that he cared for her, and she for him but she wasn’t ready to be quite where he was. She was still mourning the loss of her life, the way she was forced to choose. She needed time to accept this new life.

“I know you do. One day, I hope to feel the same.” she looked down as she continued..”I know my body does, and like you said, my mind is sure to catch up.”

He grabbed her chin and pulled her mouth up to meet his once more.

“and I will be here when it does. I will never leave you, Christine. I promise to protect and provide for you until the day I no longer breath. But for now, we have work to do upstairs. Let’s get you dressed.” and with that, he took her up to begin the renovations- with no blindfold.

 

  
…

She wasn’t sure why he bothered with the blindfold in the first place. It was certainly a maze getting in and out. She had no idea what direction they were going and which corridors led where. He maneuvered them around various booby traps which put her off enough even if she wanted to still escape, which she didn’t-not now.

Erik immediately began collecting rubble into piles while Christine made out to dust and polish. Each day, they did this. Cleaning, painting, keeping busy with the restorations of the building. He no longer kept a close eye on her, she was free to do as she wished. Sometimes she would even go into town on her own. He of course worried she would run but she never did. She always returned to him with a kiss for his lips. Day after day they would work until nightfall when they would retreat back to the underground where they now shared a bed, no qualms from Christine. In fact, she preferred him sleeping next to her and naked. She had become quite insatiable when it came to the joys of the flesh.  
They picked back up on her music lessons, learning the instruments as well as improving her voice, the phantom awarding her in erotic ways after each lesson.

...

“Will it always be like this?” she asked one evening after another night of passion, laying naked across his chest while he stroked her back.

“It will be for me. I had no choice in loving you- it never fades, only grows.” He replied in earnest.

“Erik, you do know that I’m happy, right?” Christine asked, realizing she still has never said her true feelings aloud. “I mean, you can tell, can’t you?”

He trailed a hand down her backside, brushing past her sex to continue down to her thigh- he roughly flipped her over then and mounted on top of her as she giggled.

“I can tell when you’re screaming my name each night and day when I pleasure you..” he nuzzled her neck, teasing her entrance with his erection once again.. “if that’s not happiness...”  
and he took her then once more.  
He watched her fall apart with him inside of her, tears streaming down her face as she came simultaneously with him.

“What is it, Christine?” he asked, pulling out of her and covering her up gingerly with a blanket.

“I just, I’m just overwhelmed. I’m overwhelmed by the love I feel for you. I do, I Iove you, Erik. You truly are my angel of music. It’s only ever been you, I see that now. I was just scared and young and confused, but I am happy with you here. I want to spend every waking moment with you..Say you’ll love me..” she declared..

“You know I do..” he finished the line from the song and pulled her into his warm embrace, a tear falling from his cheek. At last, he thought. 

 

…

They fell into routine, their lives together built into something wonderful. They wrote music together, and reopened the Opera Populaire with it’s most successful years to come. The scandal wore off and Christine was proud to introduce Erik as her husband, no longer needing to hide.  
They had two beautiful children together, who carried their talents on for generations upon generations.

 

fin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed as much as I did writing it! xo

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! -comments and kudos greatly appreciated! :)


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